At age 6 I faced the cruel reality: that was my last day at the playgroup. It was located right in front of the primary school, which was until then just the place where the older kids went. But no one knew what was going on in there and nobody ever cared, after all. That day, the teachers started telling us terrifying stories about homeworks, desks, books, being good, being quiet, going to bed earlier, waking up earlier and whatever. I thought that they were exaggerating, but I was wrong: they were even optimistic! The very next day I knew: the party was over. For the first time I had my own pencil case full of colours but I couldn't use them, my best friend was assigned to another class so we could not even chat about our serious businesses, because you couldn't talk. There were no swings, no swords, no music, no building blocks, no flowers, no trees, no robots, no lizards to hunt, nothing at all! I couldn't believe that. Poor me.